Flu 51
by WayWardWonderer
Summary: L.A. County has been hit by a flu epidemic. Station 51 is feeling the effects as well. Johnny and Roy attempt to go about their shift as usual but the epidemic is starting to wear them out, same goes for Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall at Rampart. All they can do is cross their fingers and endure the impending chaos, especially when fires start to burn all over the city.
1. Feeling the Effects

The squad returned to the station after its sixth consecutive run that morning. Yet another victim of the heinous flu epidemic that is sweeping its way across the county required emergency services. With a heavy sigh Roy DeSoto turned off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition before climbing out of the squad. He stood up slowly, leaning his back against the vehicle and rubbed at his sore neck with his free hand.

"I know what you mean." Johnny Gage exited the vehicle from the opposite side and watched as his clearly exhausted partner attempted to find a way to ease his mounting tension.

"If we have any more runs like that today-"

"'Today'?" Johnny interrupted Roy. "What about tomorrow? And the day after that? The rate that this flu is taking down the county, no squad will have time to stop by the station; let alone let the paramedics have a break!"

"Yeah. I know." Roy headed toward the kitchen, Johnny followed. "I heard that alot of the squads have already been taken down. Even Brice."

Roy walked over to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee, the rest of the house had been called out leaving behind an untouched pot to drink. Johnny sat on the leather sofa, propping is feet up on one of the kitchen chairs. "Well, if the world's 'perfect-paramedic' caught that damn flu, then maybe we should get out of town before it's too late!"

"JoAnne had the same idea. This morning she took the kids and went to stay with her mother upstate until the worst of it passes."

"Really? Smart woman." Johnny shut his eyes, trying to rest a little and take advantage of their greatly needed lull.

"That's why I married her." Roy sipped at his coffee then sat beside Johnny on the couch.

Johnny grinned. "So why'd she marry you?"

"My good looks and charm."

"No really."

"Watch it partner. Remember which of us is still living in bachelorhood."

Without having to get up to check and look for the returning engine company, the two medic's heard the distinct sound of the engine 'Big Red' pulling back into the garage. From the looks of both the engine and the crew it was a tough fire that had managed to drain what little energy the firefighters had left after enduring such a hectic week, all thanks to the flu epidemic.

"Hey Cap, how was the fire?" Johnny leaned back against the couch cushion as his soot covered Captain walked into the kitchen.

"Terrible." Captain Hank Stanley sat down in the kitchen chair furthest from the couch. He placed his dirty face in the palms of his hands and sighed heavily.

"Aren't they all?" Roy chimed in.

"When you have a fire it's bad enough," Captain Stanley looked at his paramedic duo as he leaned back in his chair wrapped his hands behind his head to stretch his stiffened shoulders. "But add in a bunch of people, specifically crew members, dropping like flies from something as silly as the flu, then it goes from 'bad' to 'terrible'!"

"You feeling alright Cap?" Roy put his coffee mug on the table and walked over to his tired superior.

"I'm fine. For now."

"'For now', huh?" Johnny was leaning forward now, his attention focused on his captain.

"Yeah, 'for now'. Just go ask Marco."

"Marco? Where is he?" Johnny's tone was full of concern.

"He's in the locker room."

Chet Kelley walked into the kitchen, followed by Mike Stoker. Like their captain, both men were covered in soot and looked tired.

"Is he alright?" Johnny stood from the couch and started to head toward the opened kitchen doorway to the bay.

"He'd be great if it wasn't for the flu!" Chet turned toward Johnny who proceeded to walk past him into the garage.

"You're kidding..." Roy crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, his empty coffee mug next to him.

"I wish he was pally." Hank leaned back in the chair, folding his arms behind his head as he stretched. "But take it from me, Marco caught that damned flu."

"Is it bad?" Roy continued to question his captain.

"Well, all things considered no, he isn't too bad. But I can't risk having the rest of my crew getting infected. Think you guys could drop him off at Rampart the next time you go on a supply run?"

"Well..." Roy wanted to answer his captain in the affirmative but with the entire city in chaos it would be difficult to do. "It seems that Rampart has had its share of flu victims already."

"I can only imagine what the doctor's are going through." Captain Stanley looked over his shoulder, eyeing the pot of coffee.

"And the nurses. And the paramedics..." Roy added on.

Echoing loudly through the station the Klaxons sounded off: '_Squad 51; Child trapped, 133 Weston: 133 Weston. Time-out: 12:44.' _Each man went into action.

Roy had already entered the squad before the call was finished. Captain Stanley had taken the liberty of writing the down the address and handing it to Johnny as he exited the locker room to join his waiting partner.

"Station 51: KMG-365." After confirming the call Hank decided to check on Marco himself and walked into the locker room.

The squad pulled out of the station and made its way to the awaiting address. For once the streets weren't overwhelmed with vehicles; the only good effect from such a heavy flu epidemic.

"_Another_ kid trapped, huh?" Johnny was fussing with the map in his hands.

"Yup. I guess it's a nice change from another flu case." Roy answered rather casually.

"Yeah, as long as the kid isn't hurt."

"I know what you mean. When children are the victims I can hardly bear it."

"Same over here partner."

The squad pulled to a stop in front of the modest house. A small group of people had gathered at the scene and were gawking at the child in need of rescue. From inside the squad both Johnny and Roy could see that a small boy had gotten himself caught in a wooden fence. He seemed to be alert but very grumpy, which in this case was a relief to both paramedics.

"I wonder..."

"What?" Roy asked his inquisitive partner.

"How do these kids always manage to find a way to get themselves stuck in _any_ possible situation that could ever come up?"

"I have no idea. If you ever figure it out don't keep the answer to yourself."

With the sirens now quiet the gathered group saw that help had arrived, each onlooker subtly returned to their respective homes. Everyone expect for one woman, obviously the mother of their rescue victim.

The child's mother looked more embarrassed than upset which is always a good sign when it comes to a child in need. When she saw the squad parked on the street she waved to Johnny and Roy, then motioned for the newly arrived paramedics to follow her into the backyard.

"He's back here." The mother's voice was calm with just a vague hint of irritation. Another good sign!

Johnny and Roy followed her into the backyard, they eyed the scene quickly assessing the situation.

In the backyard, laying on his belly under a very large old oak tree was a young boy with a cowboy hat on his head and a frown on his face. His foot was caught under a loosened board from the neighboring fence.

The paramedics glanced at each other relieved, knowing that the boy wasn't in too much trouble.

"Hey there partner. How you doing?" Roy knelt down next the trapped youth.

"I'm stuck!" His voice wasn't laced with fear, only irritation.

"You're stuck, huh? How'd this happen?" Roy spoke to the child as he began to check the child's trapped ankle for any sign of injury.

"I was trying to catch up to the bad guys and I fell and got stuck!"

"What other guys?" Johnny was standing next to the boy's mother was a puzzled look on his face. He glanced toward the mother who subtly pointed her finger upward from beneath her crossed arms.

Both Johnny and Roy looked up into the tree to see six eyes peering down at them from the treehouse perched in the thick branches. The kids were all wearing cowboy hats of their own.

"Oh, I get it now." Johnny grinned at Roy who returned the same amused smile.

The mother chimed in. "I've told my husband, I don't know how many times, to fix the loose boards in the fence."

"It's okay ma'am." Johnny reassured the slightly embarrassed but very concerned mother. "We'd gladly rather be helping your son out of a fence than anything else right now."

Roy finished examining the boys ankle, there was no sign of fracture or even a scrape. Good news for everyone. "So tell me son, how did you get stuck like this in the first place?"

"I was trying to climb up the fence to look out for the bad guys!"

"Yeah..." Roy wanted to hear the rest of the story but the boy looked too embarrassed to continue on. "Then what happened?"

"Well..." The boy's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "When I got to the top of the fence the board got really loose from the bottom and it flipped up!"

"It flipped up, huh?" Roy had finally pulled the boy's ankle free from the fence and was now checking it more thoroughly for injury.

"Yeah and I fell off."

"Then what?" Johnny was now curiously chiming into the story.

"When I fell down the board flipped back down and got stuck on top of my foot!"

"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about anything else today, son." Roy stood up and brushed bits of grass and dirt from his trouser legs. "You're going to be just fine."

The mother sighed with relief. "That's good to hear. And young man, now do you know why I've asked to stop climbing on the fence?"

The boy nodded silently.

"If you don't need us for anything else..." Roy addressed the mother now.

"Oh no, thank you so much!"

"Just doing our job." Johnny was able sound more sincere than cocky.

"Well, let's get back to the station." Roy gestured with his hand toward the awaiting squad parked on the street.

"Yeah. I think Marco might need our attention next." Johnny agreed in his usual laidback manner.

"That's right, Marco is sick now. Did you get a chance to check him out before we left?" Roy opened the driver's side door and leaned against it with his hand.

Johnny opened the cab's opposite door and spoke to Roy over the top of the squad. "He was running a temperature just under 101. He seemed tired as all hell and a little shaky too."

Roy slipped into the cab. "Yeah, I think we all know exactly how tired he feels."

"I couldn't agree with you more partner." As Johnny climbed into the cab, he called into dispatch to clear the scene.

"Think he can make it the rest of the shift?" Roy's voice carried some doubt.

"Nah, I think it'd be better for everyone if he took the rest of the shift off." Johnny sounded pessimistic with his response.

Roy nodded in silent agreement. "But I wonder if there's anyone left who can cover for him..."

Johnny looked over at Roy. "Good question."

Both men looked out the windshield anxiously. With fewer and fever men who making their shift each passing day, it wouldn't be long until the entire county would be working with a skeleton crew.

"Maybe we'll get a guy from the volunteer department." Johnny tried to sound reassuring.

"Maybe." Roy didn't share his partners enthusiasm.

**_...to be continued..._**


	2. Wearing Out

The waiting room of Rampart General Hospital was full of patients. Most of them were suffering from the flu; sneezing, coughing and a few were even doubled over with nausea. All the nurses, doctors and orderlies were wearing paper surgical masks in an effort to keep the infection at bay. Despite the chaos every man and woman knew their role and acted appropriately, professionally.

In the doctor's lounge Dr. Kelley Brackett was sitting at the small circle table with full cup of coffee. His eyes were shut tight and he was resting his chin against his hand, it was the only thing keeping him sitting upright at this point. Head Nurse, Dixie McCall, entered the lounge and pulled off her paper mask exposing her tired face to the world. She sighed heavily as she poured herself a cup of coffee. The coffee itself was cold and probably left over from the shift from the night before. Coffee in hand Dixie walked over the table and sat down, opposite of Dr. Brackett.

"How are you doing, Kel?" Her voice, though clearly heavy with fatigue, still carried sincerity.

His only response was only a half hearted sigh.

"Figured as much." She cautiously sipped at her coffee. "It's going to be really hectic today."

Brackett looked up at her through half-closed lids. "What makes today different from yesterday, or the day before?"

Dixie put her mug down on the table. "Well, I got a call about 15 minutes ago from Dr. Morton."

His eyes opened fully. "And what did Mike have to say?" He heard himself ask but knew his eyes told Dixie that he already knew her answer, and was dreading it.

"Mike's got the flu. He can't make it in."

Sitting up straight Kel asked the next most obvious question. "Is it that bad?"

"He's running a temperature of 102. You know as well as I do that he wouldn't make it an hour on his feet before he became a patient himself."

"You're right as usual Dix." Brackett examined his own coffee mug. "Is anyone looking after him?"

"Yeah, his sister drove in from Sacramento and she's going to be taking care of him."

"Think she can handle it?"

"Of course. She's a nurse."

Brackett smiled sheepishly at Dixie. "I'm not surprised."

Dr. Joe Early joined the duo in the lounge. Just as Dixie before him, he removed his mask and poured himself a cup of day-old coffee. He turned and looked at his colleagues with his red eyes.

Both Brackett and Dixie saw how red his eyes were and knew that the discoloration wasn't solely due to fatigue.

"You alright Joe?" Brackett quickly returned to 'doctor mode'.

"I'm fine." His lie was quickly detected. He should've known he'd be unable to fool a doctor and a nurse, let alone two of his dearest friends.

"Liar." Dixie teased him before walking over to him.

"Joe, if you're sick too, then you need to go home and get some rest." Brackett stayed seated knowing that Dixie would help handle Joe.

"Don't worry about me Kel." Early tried to resist Dixie gently pulling at his arm leading him over to the leather sofa against the wall. "Besides, you're going to need all the help you can get."

Brackett didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

Joe put his face in both his hands, his arms already resting on his knees. Dixie was pressing her fingers against his wrist measuring his pulse. "I'm sure you already know about Morton staying home."

"Yeah, Dixie told me a few minutes ago."

"Did she also tell you about the six nurses who are staying home too?"

Dixie looked over at Brackett, the two friends exchanged the same look of shock and despair.

Brackett anxiously rubbed at his brow with his two forefingers. "You're kidding..."

Early finally looked up, "I wish I was." Dixie took the opportunity to put her hand to his forehead.

"Why six? Why all at once?" Brackett pushed his mug away and folded his hands together.

Dixie put her fingers beneath his chin and turned his face to look him directly in the eyes as she spoke. "Joe, you have a fever."

Early ignored Dixie for the moment resumed his focus on Brackett. "It's not like they wanted to leave, they had little choice."

"I know, I know." Brackett felt a little guilty for snapping. "But during a time like this..."

"That's just it Kel, the flu hit them too." Early leaned back against the sofa cushions.

Dixie walked over to the lounge's sink and turned on the cold tap. She took a clean towel from the nearby cupboard and placed it in the sink, allowing it to soak up the water. Meanwhile Brackett gave Joe a look of utter confusion.

"_All six_ of them managed to get sick?"

"Not exactly."

"Enlighten me, Joe."

"Only two of them are sick. Three of them had to stay home to take care of their families and one lost her mother over the weekend."

Dixie reclaimed the towel from the sink, wrung out the excess water and returned to the sofa. She sat next to Early and placed the cool towel over his forehead. "It was Sharon who lost her mother, right?"

Early allowed Dixie to take care of him. "Yeah. Apparently she had breast cancer."

Dixie closed her eyes, trying to hide her sorrow. Even though Sharon could be naïve and flaky she was still a sweet young lady and a valuable member of the staff. "That's rough. It's going to be so hard for her when she comes back."

Brackett rose from the table, coffee mug in hand. He said nothing.

"When I get a free moment I'll have flowers sent to her apartment." Dixie looked over at Brackett hoping to idea of a respectful gesture would help him feel less guilty about always being so impatient with the young student.

"Yeah, I think I will do that too." Brackett poured his coffee down the sink and placed the mug in afterward. He left the lounge, trying to avoid Dixie's grin.

"Joe?" Dixie was unsure if Dr. Early had drifted off to sleep or not.

"Yeah?" His voice was quiet and drowsy.

"Kel and I are going back out to the bay station. You rest here for a while. Don't push yourself too hard."

"Yes, 'mom'."

Dixie playfully slapped his shoulder and she rose from the sofa. "At least your sense of humor hasn't been affected."

Outside the lounge the waiting room looked like it was ready to overflow with all the awaiting patients. Dr. Brackett had already donned a surgical mask and was looking over patient charts in the bay station. Dixie took a fresh mask from behind the desk and placed it over her face. As soon as the mask was in place the phone rang. She answered it reluctantly, fearing that it'd be someone else calling in sick.

"Rampart Emergency." She had to press her hand against her exposed ear to drown out the commotion of patients from the waiting room.

'_Hey Dix, it's Roy_.' From over the phone Roy could hear how tired Dixie was.

"Hey Roy. What's going on?"

'_Well, we have a fireman with the flu and we were wondering if we could bring him in to Rampart or just get him a ride home?_'

Dixie paused for a moment, it finally sunk in how bad the epidemic was. A paramedic had to ask if it was even _possible_ to take another patient!

"Who's the patient and how bad are his symptoms?"

Dr. Brackett overheard the conversation and chimed in. "What's going on Dix?"

From over the phone Bracket was able to hear Roy answer her questions. '_The patient is Marco Lopez. As far as symptoms go, he's exhausted but all his vitals are fine except for a temperature of 102.3_.'

"I'd say he's in the clear for resting at home. Just make sure he's not alone in case his symptoms get worse." Dixie glanced at Brackett who nodded in agreement with her assessment.

'_Thanks Dix, we'll take care of him_.'

"Take care of yourself too, I want to see as few fireman and paramedics as patients as I can."

Roy chuckled a little over the phone. '_I couldn't agree with you more. Thanks again, bye_.'

"Bye Roy." Dixie hung up the phone and started checking the charts sitting on the desk in front of her.

Brackett saw she was off the phone. "I take it there's another man down at Station 51."

"Uh-huh. Luckily the squad hasn't been affected."

"Let's hope it stays that way."

"Here's to hoping." Dixie mimed a salute as she spoke.

Brackett just smiled and walked into Exam Room 1, where yet another flu victim waited.

_**...to be continued...**_


	3. Beginning to Burn

"What did Dix say?" Johnny saw Roy hang up the phone after calling Rampart. He was sitting at the kitchen table desperately attempting to get the daily log filled out properly before the next (inevitable) call interrupted again.

Roy walked over to the leather sofa at the far side of the room and plopped down heavily. "Dix says that as long as Marco isn't alone, he can go home and rest."

Johnny dropped the pen down on the log book and leaned back in his chair, both hands folded behind his head. "Man, at this point I almost envy Marco."

Roy closed his eyes. "Exactly what do you envy? The flu or the mandatory time off?"

"Neither." Johnny closed his eyes too. "I want to go home, climb into my bed, pull the covers over my head and forget about the world as I finally get some sleep."

"I think I'm starting to envy Marco, too." Roy joked. "I certainly don't envy Dix or the rest of the hospital."

"Still a madhouse?"

"Yeah, I could hear the chaos while talking with Dixie over the phone. It sounded like the entire hospital was overflowing with patients."

"Man, and it's just past noon!" Johnny opened his eyes and looked down at the log book again. "Roy, I don't know how much more of this I can take!"

"I know partner, believe me, I know. But we have to do it, because no one else will and because no one else can."

Johnny resumed filling out the log. "You're right. You're completely right. It's just too bad that not everyone gets to be a paramedic and join in on the 'fun'!"

Roy chuckled to himself.

As if on cue the Klaxons once again sounded off, the loud buzzer filled the entire station. Despite the fatigue and now being temporarily one man short, the station went into action as the county dispatcher announced the call.

_'Station 51; House fire, 1156 West Holden: 1156 West Holden. Time-out: 13:07"_.

Captain Stanley quickly wrote down the address and acknowledged the call. "Station 51: KMG-3.6.5." He then handed the paper with the address through the squad's window to Roy before hopping into the engine with the rest of his crew, with the exception of Marco who was lying down in his bunk.

The squad quickly pulled away from the station with the engine following behind.

Johnny was fumbling with the chin strap as he put his helmet on. "A house fire, not sure if I want to deal with this or another flu case."

Roy didn't respond, his eyes were glued to the empty stretch of road before them.

The thick black smoke from the burning house could be seen four blocks away. The smell of the charred wood and furniture was detected only two blocks away.

A police car was already at the scene, two officers were holding the scene until the fire department arrive. The squad and engine pulled along the street in front of the house. Most of the structure was already engulfed in flames, the smoke obscured the few remnants that were still unmarred. Before the fire the house must've been gorgeous. It was a three story house; 1st floor, 2nd floor and a giant attic that ran the full length of the house.

"Oh man..." Johnny was at a loss for words.

"I hope everyone got out in time." Roy spoke quickly as he climbed out of the squad.

As the paramedics pulled their turn-out coats from the proper compartment, the engine crew was busy running the hose and priming up the engine for the necessary water pressure.

Captain Stanley surveyed the scene promptly and professionally. They'd need assistance.

"HT-51 requesting additional engine assistance at our location. Repeat: requesting additional assistance at our location. Time-out..." He pushed up the sleeve of his turn-out coat to examine his watch. "13:12."

A static voice from the HT responded. '_10-4, 51.'_

Turning back to his men, Stanley called out orders. He attention was solely on his crew, he didn't hear dispatch call for Station 45 to assist.

"Chet, Mike, get those lines on over here." From the corner of his eye he saw a group of onlookers building. "Get back! Everyone get back!" He was waving his arms, gesturing for the crowd to step back away from the house. The two officers took over crowd control, giving the engine company one less problem to deal with.

"Help! Please help!" A frantic, feminine voice now filled the air.

Johnny and Roy looked ta each other then turned to look for the woman crying for help. From down the street they saw a middle-aged woman sprinting down the street and toward the scene. As she ran up to the house one of the police officers firmly, but gently grabbed her around the waist to restrain her.

The woman began to struggle, trying to get free. "My daughter! My daughter! Where is she?"

Johnny approached the woman. "Calm down. What about your daughter?"

Through panting, panicked breaths the woman answered quickly. "She's in the house! This is my house and I can't find my daughter."

"Are you sure?" Johnny didn't even want to think about what a person would have to endure during such a brutal fire. "Is it at all possible she got out and went somewhere else?"

"No! She was in bed with the flu! I went to the store, I was gone only ten minutes! I need to find her!"

"Alright, calm down. We'll get her." Johnny waved Roy over.

Roy, having acquired a sixth sense for these types of situation had already donned his air tank and mask. He grabbed Johnny's tank and walked over to his partner.

"What's going on?" Roy handed the equipment to Johnny.

"She says her daughter is still in the house and she's down with the flu."

Looking over at the woman, Roy tried to give her a reassuring smile. "We'll get her. What's her name?"

"Sarah! Her bedroom is on the second floor, in the eastern corner of the house."

Johnny pulled his mask down over his face after securing his air tank. "Alright, let's go!"

The duo jogged toward the house. Johnny call out to Captain Stanley. "Cap, there's a girl still inside on the second floor!"

Just as Captain Stanley was about to tell them to wait for back-up, Station 45 arrived. He walked over the newly arrived engine and greeted its Captain. "Hey Dave, we've got a girl trapped on the second floor and I'm already a man down."

"We got your back Hank, my boys can handle anything." Captain Dave Reynolds, was wise and confident beyond his years.

Johnny and Roy walked to the front door, Johnny ungloved his hand and felt for the warmth on the door. "It's pretty cool." He tried the handle but the surrounding heat from the fire caused the door swell, it wouldn't budge.

Roy motioned for Johnny to stand to the side. "I got it." With a single strong kick, he forced the door wide open. Moving quickly he pressed his body up against the house on the opposite side of the door from Johnny.

No backdraft.

"Let's go!" Johnny lead the way inside.

From the edge of the street, Captain Stanley watched as his two paramedics disappeared into the billowing blackness of the outpouring smoke. In an instant the partners seemed to have vanished into the abyss of the raging fire.

_**...to be continued...**_


	4. Less is More

Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall had only just begun to thin out the waiting room full of sick patients. With both Dr. Early and Dr. Morton ill, and six additional nurses out of commission the staff and its resources were stretched to its limits.

Dixie returned to the crowded mess of people in an attempt to calm the chaos. "Ladies and gentlemen, please listen." She was speaking with her hands, holding a manila file in one and a chart with a hastily written list attached in the other. "We will get to you as soon as possible but you need to be patient."

Several groans of misery responded to her pleas.

"To make things run as smoothly as possible we need your full cooperation. Our staff has also been affected by the flu and we're running with a skeleton crew." Dixie put her hand on her hip, the chart still in her grasp, as she began reading the note on the chart in her other hand. "If you are here for a standard doctors appointment I strongly suggest rescheduling if at all possible. If you are here because you want a flu shot; I'm sorry, we're out. Try checking in with St. Francis General across town."

As she spoke the waiting room slowly emptied as the disgruntled and impatient marched out in a huff. Dix never broke eye contact with the chart, she merely watched them leave with the corner of her eye. After people stopped exiting she continued to read her list.

"If you are here for another reason please remain where you are, a doctor or nurse will be with you as soon as they are able. Thank you!"

Dixie was amazed to see only six people left in the waiting room. One was a regular patient, his only malady was his hypochondria... Relieved to see far fewer sick faces looking at her Dixie returned to the bay station.

"Well?" Dr. Brackett was bracing himself for the worst case scenario.

"Well what?" Dixie teased.

"Come on Dix, how many are left?"

"Six."

Dr. Brackett was almost as a loss for words. "Six?"

"Six."

"Not sixteen, just six?" He held up six fingers on his hands to be sure.

"Yes Kel, six."

"How'd you do that?" His astonishment was palpable.

"I weeded out the non-emergencies from the actual emergencies. And it gets better."

"How's that?" He arched an eyebrow at her words.

"One of those six is our resident hypochondriac."

Dr. Brackett smiled for the first time that day but Dixie couldn't see it behind his protective surgical mask. "Good girl. I can always count on you."

Dr. Early, paler than before, was standing in the doorway to the doctor's lounge. "Kel, Dix, come see this."

"Joe?" Dr. Brackett's concern for his sick friend returned. "Are you okay?"

"It's not me you need to worry about." He stepped back into the lounge, holding the door open for his colleagues to follow.

Dixie and Dr. Brackett exchanged looks for dread before heading into the lounge together. Once inside they saw Dr. Early sitting on the couch, his eyes fixated on the television screen.

"What is it Joe?" Dr. Brackett sat on the couch next Dr. Early, Dixie was sitting on the arm rest behind Dr. Brackett.

"Take a look!"

On the television was a news report. The reporter was standing in front of a large, abandoned factory that was engulfed in flames and pitch-black smoke. Two fire engines were parked nearby and all of its crew members were focused on combating the fire.

'_For those of you just tuning in, this is the fourth fire currently burning in the city as we speak. Both police and arson investigators believe that this string of fires are in fact the result of an arsonist_.' The reporter kept looking over his shoulder, trying keep out of the way of the chaos, while waving smoke away from his face. '_Police are asking for anyone who may know anything about the fires or a possible suspect to call in and report their information_.'

"My God..." Dixie immediately thought of all the firefighters and paramedics that could be injured.

Dr. Brackett sighed. "Looks like we're going to have a lot of smoke inhalation victims coming in."

"What do you want us to do, Kel?" Dr. Early was just as concerned at Dixie.

"Well, we, by which I mean Dix and myself, are going to get our six awaiting patients taken care of. Then Joe, I want you to help the nurses prepare the exam rooms and then GO HOME." His tone was firm but not aggressive.

"Kel, you need me."

"No, I need a staff that isn't suffering from the flu."

"I'm fine." Dr. Early was trying to sound convincing but his sudden bout of coughing called his own bluff.

"Go home. Please." Now Dixie was trying to coax Dr. Early to leave.

"Alright." Dr. Early reluctantly submitted to the request, but under one condition. "Let me help the nurses, then call St. Francis to see if they can take any overflow and _then_ I will go home and you won't see me until I'm well. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Dr. Brackett smiled then walked out of the lounge to clear out the waiting room.

"Thanks Joe." Dixie put her hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for what? Getting sick or leaving?"

"For giving us one less person to worry about."

Dr. Early didn't say anything. It hadn't occurred to him that today he was a patient, not a doctor until just then.

Dixie patted Dr. Early's shoulder before exiting the lounge. She walked into the waiting room and lead the first patients into Exam Room 1. Luckily three of the six patients came as a family.

While Dr. Brackett and Dixie were tending to their latest patients, Dr. Early proceeded to direct the nurses in a manner that would be the most effective in the event of multiple patients on a minimal staff.

Despite working in a hospital and never dealing with an actual fire, they've all seen the gruesome aftermath and devastation it takes on the human body. They knew all too well how disastrous the entire day could turn out if there truly was a serial arsonist on the loose... For both the firefighters and innocent bystands who were caught up in the mess.

_**...to be continued...**_

(this is a short chapter, the next one will be longer and more exciting! Thanks for reading!)


	5. Arson

Black smoke had filled the entirety of the first floor of the burning house. The sound of crackling wood, creaking boards and pressurized water was almost deafening to Johnny and Roy. Instinctively the duo made a sweep of the first floor for any other possible victims or survivors before cautiously ascending the charred, warping steps of the stair case. The windows that were meant to light the stairway were covered in ash and smog, the glass beginning to crack in a spiderweb fashion from the increasing heat.

After reaching the second floor Roy put his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "I'll check in here." The doorway to the room was ajar.

"Right! I'll check this room over here." With that said the duo split up.

Both men had to practically shout to hear each other. On top of the noise from the fire, their voices were muffled by their protective face masks. Neither of them heard the siren of the ambulance responding to the scene.

Pushing the door to the room open, Roy saw the distinct outline of a bed in the center of the room but no one was in it. He got down on his hands and knees and checked under the bed. Nothing and no one. Crawling around the edge of the bed he saw a foot sticking out from a tangled mess of blankets on the floor. In her panic, Sarah tried to get out of bed but ended up getting caught in her blankets and fell from her bed to the floor. Her flu had also drained what little strength she had left and couldn't get herself free.

"Sarah?" Roy gently placed her hand on her leg.

She didn't say anything but she did manage to raise up her hand from the blankets.

"I found her!" Roy yelled out for Johnny, hoping he heard him.

Roy pulled off his helmet and removed his face mask, he quickly placed it over Sarah's face so she could finally take a breath of clean oxygen.

Johnny appeared behind Roy. "There's no one else here, let's go!"

"Right."

In order to pull Sarah free of her covers, Roy cradled her head and began unwrapping her arms and torso while Johnny untangled her legs. Once free Roy scooped up the girl, at least 12 years old, in his arms and stood up. Johnny grabbed Roy's helmet and lead the way out of the room and toward the stairs.

The floor beneath their feet began to creak and groan from the stress of their weight on top of the fire damage. During their descent on the stairs the glass on the windows shattered, showering the firefighters in glass rain. They paused for only a moment, shielding Sarah and Roy's face from the debris.

"Are you okay?" Johnny was very concerned about Roy being exposed to the fire and glass.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Take a breath, I'll give her my mask now."

Roy nodded as he replaced his mask. Johnny slipped off his helmet, quickly took off his mask and placed it over Sarah's face so Roy could take a fresh breath. "Come on, let's get out of here."

This time with Roy leading, Sarah still in his arms with Johnny's mask stretched over her face, the duo walked back through the harshness of the black smoke, out the opened front door and into the bright day light.

The mother who had been panicking and silently praying for her daughter's rescue burst into tears at the sight of the returning fire fighters. But the cop who had kept her away from the fire did not release his grip.

Captain Stanley, who had also witnessed the return of his men, walked over to the squad and began pulling out the necessary equipment he knew his paramedic team would require.

Johnny pulled his mask from Sarah's face before taking off his air tank, helmet and turnout coat. Roy kneeled on the ground with Sarah in his arms while Captain Stanley laid out the yellow blanket for her to rest on.

"Do you guys need me to do anything else?" He knew his own question was a transparent excuse for him to check in on his men without actually checking in on them.

"No Cap, we can handle it."

"Right."

Captain Stanley rose to his feet and returned to his engine crew who were still trying to douse the blaze.

"Let's get the line to Rampart." Johnny had opened up the bio-phone.

"I'll get the oxygen set up."

The cop had calmly escorted the mother over to her daughter but kept her from getting in the way of Johnny and Roy.

"Sarah?" The mother's lip was quivering. "Is she...?"

"No. She's still hanging in there." Roy flashed a reassuring smile.

While Johnny and Roy tended to their victim, the engine crew continued their struggle against the flames.

"Rampart this is Squad 51, how do you read?" Johnny was on the line while Roy was taking Sarah's vitals, including temperature.

_'This is Rampart, go ahead 51_.' Dixie answered the call.

"Rampart we have a girl about 12 years old-

"Thirteen!" The mother interrupted.

"...13 years old. She's suffering from smoke inhalation and had been suffering effects from the flu before the fire." Johnny looked over and Roy handed him the notepad with her vital signs already written down. "Vitals are: pulse 72, B.P. 110/80, respirations are 16, pupils normal and reactive." He took the thermometer from Sarah's lips and replaced the oxygen mask. "She is running a temperature of 102.5"

Dixie was making notes of her own when Dr. Brackett entered the bay station, he glanced over her notes and answered the squad. '_51, is the patient having trouble breathing_?'

"That's affirmative Rampart."

'_51, start an I.V. Ringers-Lactate and put her on O2, 2 liters to start with_.'

"10-4 Rampart."

'_51, is the ambulance there yet_?'

Johnny glanced around and saw the ambulance parked behind the squad. (must've gotten here while we were in the house, he thought) "That's affirmative Rampart."

'_Get her in here as soon as possible_.'

"10-4 Rampart."

Roy motioned for the ambulance attendants to wheel over the gurney. With little effort he was able to lift and lay Sarah down while Johnny placed the oxygen at her feet. After securing the safety straps, the paramedics walked alongside the gurney as the attendants placed her inside the back of the ambulance. The mother tried to climb in with her daughter, but the cop pulled her back and quietly explained that she would need to ride in the front.

A loud groan and sudden crash caught everyone by surprise. The frame of the house could no longer stand, piece of charred wood, glass, shingles and water rained down on all the bystanders and engine companies. Johnny and Roy turned quickly to see a large cloud of smoke and dust rising into the air, where the house once stood.

Captain Stanley took a quick head count and was relieved to see all men not only accounted for but still standing!

"Okay, bring the lines back! That's it!"

The three engineers obeyed their Captain and quickly returned to their engine. They began pulling in their lines and cleaning up their equipment.

Captain Stanley clicked on his HT. "Engine 51, fire at scene contained. Beginning salvage and clean up at this location."

_'Engine 51 10-4.'_ The dispatcher acknowledged the call.

With everything still under control Johnny and Roy knew they were cleared to leave with the patient. Roy rode in with Sarah, while Johnny would clean up the equipment and follow in the squad and meet up at Rampart.

Just as Johnny hopped into the cab and turned the ignition, Captain Stanley tapped on the window.

"Yeah Cap?" He rolled the window down.

"Are you and Roy okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

He pointed at the pile of debris and smoke. "_That_'s why. You guys could've been in there when_ that_ happened!"

Johnny looked where he was pointing and saw the horrific aftermath.

"But we weren't. And neither was the girl. We're okay Cap, I promise."

"Alright. Just do me a favor, will ya'?"

"Sure Cap."

"Don't scare me like that AGAIN."

"We'll do our best."

"Right. Go get Roy and get back to the station, I have a feeling that today is just going to be one of those days."

"I know the feeling."

Johnny rolled up his window and pulled away from the curb. He looked in the driver's side mirror at the wreckage he and Roy had managed to avoid getting trapped in. He picked up the radio to call in to dispatch. "Squad 51, 10-8 to Rampart."

_'Squad 51.'_ The static filled voice response went unnoticed.

It was a seemingly long, quiet drive to the hospital. The ambulance carrying Sarah was already parked and the patient had already been taken inside. But to his dismay, there were two more ambulances pulling into the parking lot just as he was turning into the drive.

As he parked the squad and climbed out of the cab. The two ambulance doors opened and the attendants wheeled in two firefighter's, both from Station 8. Burns and smoke marred their faces, arms and hands and legs. Any part of them that had not been covered by their turn-out coats had been burned! The smudges on their faces made identification nearly impossible. The oxygen masks over their noises only amplified the sounds of their labored breathing.

The first paramedic that exited the ambulance with the victims Johnny didn't recognize, he was either new or a volunteer. But the second paramedic he recognized as Gil, the same trainee he and Roy mentored a few years before.

"Hey, Gil!" Johnny followed closely so Gil wouldn't have to leave the gurney. "What the hell happened?"

Dixie saw the gurney. "Treatment Room 1."

Gil held the door open. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Johnny stayed outside, standing in the hallway.

"There's a serial arsonist on a rampage."

"Arsonist...?" The very word left a foul taste in his mouth.

_**...to be continued... **_


	6. Firefighters & Fevers

Johnny watched as the door to the exam room closed before turning toward the bay station, he was anxiously rubbing the back of his neck. 'Arsonist...' He couldn't get the word, let alone the thought, out of his head. He was on autopilot, he knew he needed to restock the supplies in the squad but he couldn't really focus. There was just too much going on.

"Don't bother."

"Huh?" Johnny was brought back to reality.

"I said don't bother." Dixie returned to the bay station, her head hung low. "Roy already restocked. He's in the doctor's lounge."

Johnny saw the sadness in her otherwise brilliant blue eyes. "Is he watching a news report?"

"Uh-huh."

"About the arsonist?"

"What else?"

"Dix?" Johnny felt a lump in his throat, he knew that he had to ask even though every fiber of his being told him not to. "How are..." He paused for moment, he wanted to revise his question. "Are they... Are they going to... make it?"

Dixie looked Johnny in the eyes and he knew that the situation was bleak. "It's touch and go. For both of them."

"Do you know what happened?" He hated himself for asking another heart-wrenching question, but he needed to know.

"They were working a fire at that new construction site by the docks."

"The new office building?"

"Not so new anymore." She adjusted her paper mask. "They were on the first floor trying to contain the fire before it spread." She took a deep breath. "A steel beam fell from the ceiling and it pinned them down."

"And the beam was hot from the fire and it burned... It burned them, on their faces, necks and arms."

"Yeah. The weight of the beam also broke several ribs and fractured the radius and ulna in both of their arms."

"Damn..."

Dixie didn't want to talk about it anymore. No one did. She didn't want Johnny to go away, she just wanted to think about something else for a while. "Roy is waiting for you."

"Right." He turned slowly and looked at the door to the lounge. "See ya' later, I guess."

"See ya'."

Johnny pushed open the door to the lounge and saw Roy sitting on the couch. The small paper box of supplies was sitting on the ground next to his feet. Johnny thought Roy looked a little pale but he couldn't decide if it was caused by exhaustion or worry or perhaps, even illness.

"Any word on who the arsonist is?"

"No." Roy never looked up, he voice was low and lifeless.

Joining his partner on the couch Johnny just stared absentmindedly at the screen.

'_We've just received an update_.' The news reporter was at the scene of the construction fire. '_As you know two firefighters from Station 8, the engine company currently behind me, were critically injured when part of the structure collapsed_.'

Both Johnny and Roy closed their eyes at the very thought of possibly losing two colleagues in such a tragic manner.

'_We just got word that both firefighters are receiving medical treatment but the prognosis is grim. Once again this fire, and three other fires reported today, are the result of an arsonist. The police believe it is just one person at work and if you have any information that could possibly lead to his capture, please report to your local authorities_.'

Neither men knew how to react. Johnny finally broke the tense silence. "Do you think they'll catch him?"

"Yeah." Roy picked up the box of supplies off the floor. "They will."

"In time?" As soon as the question left his mouth Johnny wanted to kick himself.

Looking back at his partner Roy could only think of one response. "At this point, does it matter?"

"Guess not."

Roy took his HT from his belt. "Squad 51, available."

_'Squad 51.'_

Johnny reluctantly left the couch and followed Roy outside the lounge. As they passed by Dixie in the bay station they gave her glances of empathy.

Outside the duo began restocking their dwindling supplies in their proper order. Simultaneously the partners closed and locked their respective compartment doors and climbed back into their usual places in the squad.

Before Roy had even put the key in the ignition Johnny asked yet another question. "Any word on Sarah?"

"Yeah, yeah. Dr. Brackett thinks she's going to be just fine."

"That's good, I was really worried for a while."

Awkward quiet filled the cab as the squad pulled away from the hospital. On the drive back it was Roy who broke the silence. "Do you think Marco is still at the station?"

"Oh man, you know I completely forgot about him!"

"Don't worry. Cap called in a replacement, he should be back at his home by now."

Johnny chuckled. "I still can't decide if I'm jealous of him or not!"

"Well, considering that today is Chet's turn to cook, I think I'm jealous."

Both Johnny and Roy shared a good laugh. It was the first time they found a reason to laugh the entire shift.

Johnny looked down at his watch. "It's almost 3:15, think we should stop somewhere and grab some lunch or try to endure whatever concoction Chet came up with this week?"

"I'm too tired to make a pitstop." He coughed a little, then cleared his throat.

Before he had a chance at ask Roy about his cough a huge black cloud of smoke rising in the distance caught their attention. They just studied the immense darkness with silent awe and a twinge of fear. Pulling into the driveway at the station they saw Captain Stanley standing in front of the building watching the same smoke cloud that caught their attention just seconds before.

As the squad parked in the garage Captain Stanley walked back inside and pressed the button the automatically close the door behind him. He watched as his weary paramedics climbed out of the squad.

"I take it you heard about the arsonist?"

"Worse." Roy closed his door. "We saw the aftermath from Station 8."

Captain Stanley closed his eyes. "Bad?"

"Very."

The three men exited the garage and wandered into the kitchen. Chet was sitting at the table going through the phone book, while Mike was sitting on the couch reading a book.

"Hey Kelley?" Captain Stanley address his junior engineer. "Where's the chow?"

"Aw, c'mon Cap!" Chet whined. "I'm too tired too cook. I'm just going to order a pizza, my treat."

Roy sat next to Chet at the table while Johnny got himself a glass of water. Captain Stanley smirked a little and shook his head. "Here's a better idea, you order the pizza and we'll all chip in."

"Thanks Cap!"

"Hey Cap?"

"Yeah John?"

"Any word on Marco?"

"His replacement will be here within the hour. A new guy, just transferred here from Sacramento. Jack Hudson."

Johnny glanced around the room but no one seemed to know him.

"And, just so you know. While we were gone Marco's brother came and picked him up. I guess his mother jumped at the opportunity to care of her 'little boy' again."

Chet and Johnny shared an immature chuckle.

Roy stifled a cough then stood up slowly and walked into the bunkroom. Johnny didn't like the way his partner looked. He looked a little pale and was walking in a slightly clumsy manner.

Just as Roy laid down in his bunk, Johnny walked into the room.

"Roy? You alright?"

Keeping his eyes shut Roy acknowledge his partner. "I'm just tired. I think that fire really got to me."

"Un-huh..." His tone carried a degree of sarcasm and disbelief.

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are. But humor me, let me check you out." He sat on his own bunk across from Roy's.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" He tried to sound innocent but he knew Roy would never buy it.

"You know what." He turned to his side on his bunk. "I'm not a victim, so don't try and pull that paramedic angle on me."

"I never said you were a victim. I just implied that I didn't believe you when you say you're 'fine'."

"Well I am, just take my word for it." He stifled another cough.

"Nope."

Roy glanced at his partner. "You're not going to go away, are you?"

"Nope."

"If I let you check me out, you'll leave me alone to sleep?"

"Sure!"

Reluctantly accepting his current role as patient Roy slowly sat up straight on his bunk. "Let's get this over with."

Johnny grabbed Roy's wrist and checked his radial pulse, he couldn't help but notice how warm his skin felt. "You're heart rate's a little fast."

Roy didn't say anything.

"How's your throat?"

"A little dry. Not sore."

Next Johnny pressed his hand to Roy's forehead. "Roy, you have a fever."

"I'm still a little overheated from the fire. I'll be fine in a few more minutes."

"I don't think so. If anything I think you're now suffering the early effects of the flu."

Roy shook his head. "I'll admit that I'm not feeling great but I don't have the flu."

"Then maybe we should get a second opinion."

"You're really hung up on me being sick, aren't you pal?"

"Only because you are, and I don't want to see you get hurt." His tone was serious. "Besides, with JoAnne out of town you have no one else to take care of you."

Roy thought about it for a moment. Johnny was right, he'd been going home to an empty house for the past week and he dreaded the idea of being alone with the flu.

"Look, I'll finish this shift and then I'll see what Rampart has to say. Okay?"

"Okay. But let me get your vitals down. You know just in case."

"Fine..." Roy flopped back down onto his bunk on his side.

Johnny quickly walked back into the garage to retrieve the B.P. cuff, thermometer and stethoscope from the squad's compartment. Captain Stanley heard the sound of the squad being opened and walked over to his youngest paramedic with curiosity.

"John?"

"Yeah Cap?" Johnny suddenly stopped, he looked like a kid who got his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"What are you doing?"

"Well..." He didn't want to lie to his Captain but he didn't want to put Roy on the line either. "Roy isn't feeling too well and I just wanted to check him out to be safe."

"The flu?"

"Yeah, it looks that way."

"Damn. I can't be down a paramedic. Law requires two paramedics in order to have a functioning squad. If Roy's down then our squad will be out of commission until he recovers or a possible replacement shows up."

"He isn't that bad. He says he wants to finish his shift and then go to Rampart tomorrow."

Captain Stanley put his hands on his hips, his eyes intense as he was lost in thought. "Alright, but you watch him like a hawk! If there's any sign of any trouble you get him to the hospital fast. Got it?"

"Got it!" With equipment in hand Johnny returned to the bunkroom where his partner was trying to rest. Roy had managed to drift off to sleep. Johnny decided not wake him.

After carefully placing the thermometer between Roy's teeth, Johnny put the B.P. cuff on Roy's arm and pumped the cuff up: 110/90. Johnny noted the B.P. on his small notepad. Using the stethoscope Johnny listened to Roy's chest: His lungs were clear. Checking Roy's pulse again Johnny marked his heart rate at 72. Finally retrieving the thermometer he saw that Roy was running a fever at 100.7.

He sighed. He wanted to start an I.V. just to be safe but he'd need Rampart's permission and then once the I.V. was established he'd have to take Roy to the hospital. Instead he decided to get a cold cloth and put it over Roy's forehead.

Captain Stanley had been listening from the doorway just in case Johnny needed help. Once Johnny entered the locker room to get the needed washcloth he followed and inquired about Roy's condition.

"So, how is he?"

Johnny turned on the cold tap and let the wash cloth soak for a moment. "All things considered, not too bad. Right now he only has a dry throat and fever."

"But nothing we need to worry about?"

"Not at the moment."

Johnny took the cold washcloth and returned to the bunk room. He carefully placed it over Roy's forehead before gathering up the equipment he left strewn about on his own bunk.

As Johnny replaced the equipment he heard Chet call out from the kitchen. "Pizza's here!"

"That's the best news I've heard all day!"

Just then a small red car pulled into the lot behind the station. A young black man, about Johnny's age, climbed out. He was fully dressed in uniform.

"I take it your Jack Hudson? I'm Johnny Gage."

"That's right." He extended is hand to shake with Johnny.

"Man am I glad you're here. We need all the help we can get!"

Jack chuckled. "That's the same story I've been hearing all over town."

Johnny laughed. "I believe it." He motioned for the kitchen. He and Jack walked in together.

"Hey everyone, our newest member just arrived."

"Oh yeah, Jack. I'm Captain Stanley, you've already met John, this is Mike Stoker, Chet Kelley and our other paramedic Roy DeSoto is resting in the bunk room. You're just in time for lunch."

"Lunch? Isn't it a little late for lunch?"

"Not for us." Johnny replied sheepishly. "Especially not today."

"Hey, what's with Roy?" Chet's asked as he noticed they were one man short.

Captain Stanley answered for Johnny. "He's lying down. That fire really exhausted him."

"Hope it's not the flu." Chet remarked casually as he picked up his slice of pizza.

Johnny quickly went over the scene of the fire in his mind. The girl they saved had the flu, Roy gave her is mask during her rescue then he put the mask back over his own face. There was no denying it now, Roy contracted the flu from their rescued girl.

Before anyone could say anything else, the Klaxons sounded off! Again!

"Now what?" Johnny and Chet asked in unison.

_'Engine 51: Assist Station 8 at construction fire at the docks; 102 West Palmer. 102 West Palmer. Time Out: 15:44.'_

Captain Stanley acknowledged the call. "Station 51: KMG-3.6.5." He climbed in the engine and looked over his should at Jack, who already climbed into the engine and coincidentally sat where Marco would normally be. "Hope you're ready for this, Jack."

A strange pit formed Johnny's stomach as he watched the engine pull away and drive toward danger. He forced himself to remember that right now the only person he needed to worry about, the only person that he could help, was laying down in the bunkroom. He focused himself and decided to check in on Roy.

"Roy?" He called from the doorway.

No response.

He walked over the bunk where his sleeping partner lay, he spoke in a louder tone and gently shook Roy's shoulder. "Roy?"

Silence.

**_...to be continued..._**


	7. Into the Inferno

Johnny was worried, Roy seemed to be sleeping but wasn't responding to his own name. Reacting to the situation as he normally would any other he pressed his fingers against the side of Roy's neck to check for a carotid pulse.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Roy finally opened his eyes, they were red and heavy with fatigue. He pushed Johnny's hand away.

Johnny sighed in relief. "Man, you scared me!"

"_I_ scared_ you_? What did I do?"

"_You_ didn't respond when I called your name, I thought... Well..."

"I'm fine! You need to stop worrying. Why don't you go bother Chet or something?"

"Because Chet, along with everyone else, left for a call."

Roy looked at Johnny perplexed. "They did? When?"

"When?" Johnny couldn't believe Roy didn't hear the Klaxons sounding off. "Just now! Maybe, two minutes ago!"

"Oh."

Johnny gave Roy a look of concern and puzzlement.

"Johnny, maybe I should get up."

"What? Why?"

"Because if I was that hard to wake up even with the Klaxons blaring, I'll slow down the squad if we get called out."

"Good point." Johnny didn't like the idea of Roy not resting but they had little choice with so many department personnel already down.

Roy wearily pushed himself upright on his bed. As he tried to stand up Johnny saw how weak Roy had become. Despite Roy's insistence that he wasn't as ill as he appeared, Johnny wrapped one of Roy's arms around his neck and helped him slowly walk into the kitchen.

"Sit down."

Roy did what he was told, not that he didn't already have that idea in mind. He leaned his elbows on the kitchen table and rested his head in his hands. Johnny went to the sink and filled a glass with water. He couldn't help but notice how much paler Roy's complexion had become, a fine sheen of sweat was forming on his skin as well.

"Here." Johnny put the glass next to Roy. "You have to stay hydrated."

Roy looked at the water and wanted to drink it, but he was worried that anything might upset his stomach.

Johnny sat across from Roy and visually assessed his partner. "Be honest, how bad do you feel?"

"Bad."

That wasn't the answer Johnny wanted to hear. "How bad?"

Roy sighed then looked up at Johnny. "I'm tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Try to take it easy."

Nodding silently Roy shut his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts.

"Maybe we can get permission from Rampart to-"

The dreaded sound both men hoped they wouldn't hear for the rest of the day blared loudly in the empty firehouse: the Klaxons!

_'Squad 51, assist engine 51 at the dock's fire; 102 West Palmer. 102 West Palmer. Time-Out: 16:01.'_

Johnny again helped Roy to his feet and to the squad while the call was being delivered. Johnny quickly scribbled down the address and acknowledged the dispatcher. "Squad 51, KMG 3.6.5."

Roy was riding shotgun this run, he was too sick to drive. Johnny climbed into the driver's side of the cab and headed off toward the scene of the call. He didn't exactly need the address since he could see the billowing blackness of the thick smoke even from the station house. He could've sworn that the smoke had doubled in density since first seeing it less than an hour ago.

"Are you going to make it?" Johnny's concern for Roy mounted as they approached the scene.

"Yeah. I'll make it."

He heard his answer but had a hard time believing it himself. If he ended up a victim himself Johnny would be alone and quickly overwhelmed with the chaos.

As they neared the docks the stench of hot oil, metal, wood and sea salt was intoxicating. The smoke itself was hanging low, flowing over the road. Johnny slowed the squad in an attempt to maneuver at a safer pace. The smoke thinned enough for the paramedics to spot Engine's 8 and 51 positioned near the scene, both departments were working as one to extinguish the blaze.

The squad pulled up next to the engines and parked. Captain Stanley saw his paramedics arrive and walked over to inform them of the situation. He was a little surprised to see Johnny driving, then he remember that Roy was ill.

"John, Roy, glad to see you both made it."

"What's happening Cap?" Johnny had left the squad cab and had opened the compartment on the side.

"A lot of fire and even more smoke."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Not hurt, just tired. We need all the help we can get."

"Got it."

Johnny pulled his turnout coat from the compartment and pulled it on, then put on his helmet and finished off with the air tank and mask. Roy set up a small triage center with their equipment ready next to the squad.

Rushing over to Chet on the line, Johnny took over for him allowing him a small window of down time. The sight of the fire itself was incredible, even with two engine companies tending to the flames it was still burning out of control. Their efforts only created ever thickening smoke.

_-Back at Rampart-_

Dr. Brackett left the I.C.U. with his head hung low. He took the stethoscope from around his neck and put it in his coat pocket. One of the firefighters who had been pinned and burned at the scene of the fire; the same fire that Station 51 had been asked to assist, had passed away. His injuries were too severe. Dr. Brackett knew that he had done everything that was possible to save his life and that he shouldn't beat himself up over it, but logic alone wasn't enough to ease his mental anguish. He stepped into the empty elevator and pressed the button without looking away from the spot on the floor. He was dreading the impending moment that every doctor dreaded; telling someone their loved one had died, then trying to explain how despite everyone's best efforts they were unable to keep them alive. The elevator doors opened and his heart sank a little more.

Dixie saw him exiting the elevator and knew by the look in his eye that something terrible had happened.

"Kel?" Her voice caught his attention but just barely.

He didn't look her as he spoke. "We lost him, Dix."

She closed her eyes sharing the same pain that Dr. Brackett was enduring.

In the waiting room he saw the wife of their most recently deceased patient. She was cradling an untouched cup of coffee as she sat in the corner chair. She seemed to sense Dr. Brackett's approach, she looked up and into his blue eyes. Without a uttering a single word she knew exactly what he had come to tell her. She bowed her head and began to silently sob.

Dixie walked into the waiting room, she gently touched Dr. Brackett's shoulder letting him know that she would step in to take care of her. She sat next to the reluctant widow and held her as she continued to cry silent tears.

Unable to withstand the sad sight any longer Dr. Brackett inconspicuously slipped out of the waiting room and into the doctor's lounge. He just hoped that the awful day would end sooner than later.

The television was still on, and the news report of the arsonist and their fires was still being aired. It seemed like everywhere he went he's be faced with one bad scenario or another. This time however, there was no reporter. The scene was deemed to dangerous for any unauthorized personnel to be within two block of the blaze. Instead they news team had left behind a camera and microphone to capture the story in their absence.

Dr. Brackett watched the hypnotic chaos on the screen. No voices; only the sound of crackling flames, heavy engine equipment and spraying water. He wanted so desperately to look away but feared that as soon as he did another catastrophe would occur solely to recapture his attention. That's when he noticed that alongside Engine 8, there was Engine 51 and Squad 51.

The hospital staff did their best to remain objective and never play favorites with the fire department crew that they had been working closely with, but when it comes to Station 51 everyone showed just a little more concern.

He remembered that earlier the station called with a report of a flu case taking down one of their firemen. _'Did they get a replacement in time or are they down a man? If the squad's there does that mean someone had been injured?' _He couldn't get the feeling of dread out of his mind, let alone the pit of his stomach.

**_...to be continued..._**


	8. Lost & Found

The fire was finally nearing containment, the blaze itself was still burning strong and very hot but it not longer posed a threat to the surrounding structures. The two engine company crews were tired but still determined to extinguish the flames. Each man knew his role and acted accordingly, no one was holding back.

Johnny tried to keep his mind focused on the fire before him but he often found his mind wandering back to Roy and his current condition. A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality as Chet had returned to take his place back on the line.

"I'm going to check on Roy." His words were muffled by his mask and the chaos of the fire, but Chet understood what he said and simply nodded.

He was tired, the only thing keeping him on his feet was the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He looked around in astonishment at the chaotic mess surrounding him. But with chaos comes order. That's why the engine crews were there and why a police car had parked itself near the trucks and squad. Despite everything, everyone understood that only through their hard work would anything get accomplished.

Walking back to the squad at a relatively brisk pace he saw Roy sitting on the bumper, his eyes fixed on the smoking inferno beyond. Johnny was relieved to see that Roy's color looked better. He wasn't as pale as he had been before but he still looked tired as hell.

"How you doing partner?" Johnny asked in a casual manner as he sat next to Roy and slid his air mask off letting it hang around his neck.

"Apparently I'm doing alot better than you!" His tone was light and full of good humor.

Johnny looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at yourself. You're sweaty, dirty and smell like a pile of burned rubble!" He smirked as he said it.

"Glad you're feeling better." He patted Roy on the shoulder.

"A little."

"Still tired?"

"Yeah and I can't seem to break this fever."

"Maybe we'll get relieved soon and then-"

"John!" Captain Stanley cut off Johnny midsentence. "John!"

Reacting quickly Johnny hopped off the bumper and jogged over to his Captain. "What is it Cap'?"

"Chet and Jack said that they heard someone calling for help!"

Johnny looked at the burning ruins of the incomplete construction site. "From in_ there_?" His voiced carried his disbelief.

"I know it sounds crazy, but they know they kept hearing a voice over and over again asking for help. Someone is still alive in there."

A sudden explosion from a rupturing fuel tank within the bowels of the building caught everyone off guard. The men working the lines quickly fell to their knees anticipating any potential falling debris while Johnny and Captain Stanley put their arms up to shield their faces. The already weakened foundation shifted, beams and boards at the top of the structure snapped via the 'domino effect'.

With no signs or falling lumber or debris the crew resumed their position at their lines while Captain Stanley returned his attention back to his young paramedic. "I hate to do this but if they can hear his voice even with all this chaos, he can't be too far inside."

"Right, I'll get the emergency line." Johnny jogged back to the squad and pulled out the pre-tied from its place in its compartment. He grabbed a second rope and tucked it in his turnout coat, just as a precautionary measure.

"What's going on?" Roy appeared by Johnny's side.

"Someone's still in there!"

"You're kidding."

"Nope, I need to try and find them, fast."

"I'll hold onto your line." Without a moment's hesitation Roy pulled on is turnout coat and helmet. He was too sick to assist in the rescue but there was no way he'd let his partner and friend endure something so dangerous alone.

Both paramedics returned to their Captain. Johnny secured the line around his waist, pulled on his mask and tightened his helmet. Roy held the opposite end of the line, feeding slack to Johnny as he entered but still keeping the line tight in case something went wrong. Captain Stanley stayed with Roy, if something did go wrong it'd take the strength of both men to retrieve the line and the paramedic at the other end, especially if there was a victim in tow.

With great caution Johnny entered what was once a doorway into the burning structure. Once inside he could now hear the voice of someone calling for help. They were close, very close. But his voice was sounding hoarse, he must've been calling for a long time. Johnny was nearly blind because of the smoke but still managed to navigate the ruin interior with little difficulty. He then began calling out for the victim, hoping to pinpoint his location.

"Hey! This is the fire department! Where are you?"

He paused a waited, straining to listen over the burning structure. A voice, faint but close responded. "Here! Down here!" His voice cracked as he called out.

'_Down_?' Johnny thought. He fell to his knees and used his hands to feel around for weak spots in the floor. As he slowly crawled toward the sound of the voice his hands felt the jagged edges of the broken boards. A large hole had opened up beneath the victim as he was walking through the room, he fell through and was now trapped in a charred pit!

Johnny wiped the smoggy film from his mask and peered over the edge of the hole and looked down. Inside was a lone victim. He was in his early twenties and covered in soot, small burns and wooden fragments. He was rubbing his neck, as if his throat was irritated.

"Are you hurt?"

"No! Just stuck!" He coughed trying to clear his throat.

"Alright, hold on." Thinking quickly he pulled the second rope from his turn-out. He wrapped one end around his own waist to act as leverage, then threw the free end down to the victim. "Tie yourself off around your waist and I'll pull you up."

"Are you crazy, man?" Despite his fear the man did as he was instructed. "There's no way you can lift me out of here!"

A sudden groan of weakening boards and beams from the ceiling above told Johnny that he was running out of time, he needed to get the victim and himself out of the building NOW. Light particles of ash began to rain down from splits gaps forming between the boards beneath the cracked plaster on the weakened ceiling. Planting his feet firmly Johnny began to carefully pull on the rope, slowly lifting the man out of the pit. It seemed like it took hours for the man to reach the top, but once he was able to grip the edge of the floor he grabbed on with all his might! Still holding the rope tight Johnny kneeled down and extended his hand. He grabbed ahold of the victims hand and pulled him up further, he used his other hand to grab the man's belt and heave himthe rest of the way up and out of the hole.

"Okay let's get out of-"

With a heavy crash the ceiling gave way and collapsed in a heap down onto the two men! A sudden rush of wind and soot blasted out the front of the building, a plume of black smoke rose up from the debris and took everyone outside by surprise. Roy felt a hard weight pull down on Johnny's life line, the force almost pulled him off his feet.

The victim found himself suddenly lying on the ground, a few loose boards on his legs and side. He pushed them away, picked himself up off the ground and looked around. Ash fell down in thick clumps making it difficult to see. A light began piercing through the fog of smoke and debris, he looked and saw that it was the exit. He made a run for it.

Roy was still holding Johnny's line when he saw the victim run out. Captain Stanley ran over to him and escorted him away from the blaze.

"Where is he?"

"Who? The guy who helped me?" He coughed heavily.

"Yes! Him!" He immediately thought to himself. _'Who else would I be talking about, you moron_?'

"The ceiling fell, I guess he's stuck now."

Those words instantly made Captain Stanley feeling nauseous. "You stay here!"

A police officer who had been keeping nosey people at bay overheard the conversation. He walked over to the victim and nodded to Captain Stanley, letting him know that the victim wasn't going anywhere. "Sir, will come with me please?" The officer escorted the man to his car parked far from the scene.

Roy had been trying to pull in Johnny's line but it wouldn't budge, he knew that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Captain Stanley returned to his ill paramedics side. "The ceiling came down, John's trapped!"

Roy's first reaction was to run into the building and find his friend but Captain Stanley grabbed Roy's arms ad held him back. "No, Roy! You're too weak, you can't get him and yourself out." He released his grip. "I'll get him out, you go wait with the equipment."

With one last look of horror at the fire Roy dropped the rope from his hands, nodded and silently walked back to the squad. He looked back at the fire with a heavy heart.

Captain Stanley adjusted his face mask and helmet. He walked up to Mike Stoker, his second in command, and touched his shoulder. "John's down, I'm going in after him." Mike nodded and adjusted his line.

Using the same opening the victim had used to escape, Captain Stanley entered. He found the rope that had been acting as Johnny's life line and used it to guide him to the downed paramedic. There was a large pile of smoldering debris near the center of the room. The rope lead directly to the edge of the heaping mass of charred beams and ceiling remnants.

"John! John, can you hear me?" Captain Stanley began digging into the mess, silently praying to find Johnny still alive. The whole room seemed to grow quieter with each passing second. The silence was deafening.

A large slab of sheeting was pinned down by an even larger beam. But beneath the slab he could see the distinct outline of a human hand. Johnny's hand.

"John!" Captain Stanley ungloved his hand and felt for Johnny's pulse: Weak and slow. He noticed that Johnny's skin seemed much warmer than normal.

A surge of adrenaline gave Captain Stanley the energy he needed to push away the beam and lift the sheeting, finally uncovering the dark haired paramedic.

"Johnny... Oh, God..."

Johnny was laying on his back, his face mask cracked and smudges of blood were on the inside of the protective plastic. His turn-out coat had tears and burns its entire length, while through some miracle his legs remained unharmed. He wasn't moving.

Captain Stanley couldn't risk a second collapse, he had to get Johnny out of there fast. He kneeled down next to Johnny and untied the rope from his waist before carefully sitting him up. He grabbed the unconscious medics arms as leverage and hoisted Johnny onto his shoulders in a classic fireman's carry. Using the bright light beaming in from the opening as his guide, Captain Stanley hustled outside and toward safety.

From the opposite side of the squad, Roy saw Captain Stanley exit the structure. He also saw Johnny laying over his shoulders, unconscious. He stood and waited anxiously as Captain Stanley carried his injured partner over to him.

"How is he?"

"He's alive."

Captain Stanley kneeled down again and gently slid Johnny from his shoulders with Roy helping to guide him to the ground. Roy unfastened Johnny's helmet while the collected, yet very concerned, Captain Stanley took the oxygen tank from Johnny's back before laying him down flat. Roy carefully slid the cracked mask from Johnny's face, revealing the bruises and cuts that marred his pale skin.

Clicking on his HT, Captain Stanley reported to Dispatch: "Engine 51: we have a 'Code I' at our location. Request for an ambulance."

_'Engine 51.'_

Instincts took over and Roy began accessing Johnny's condition, trying to remain in the mind frame of a paramedic and less of a friend, at least for the time being. He pressed his fingers to Johnny's neck and felt for a pulse. Still weak and slow. Captain Stanley unfastened Johnny's torn turnout coat only to be greet by the sight of more blood.

"Roy."

He looked at his Captain, then looked where his Captains eyes were already fixed. Johnny's chest was covered with blood. A single laceration that extended from his sternum and angled down toward his lowest rib on the right side of his ribcage was the culprit.

Roy opened Johnny's uniform shirt and cut away the white t-shirt beneath to fully expose the wound. As he gently examined the injury with his hands, he made a horrifying discovery.

"Cap! He's not breathing!"

_**...to be continued...**_


	9. Exhausted

Roy's hands were shaking as he placed the resuscitator over Johnny's face. He pressed the button which forced clean oxygen into the unconscious man's lungs. Roy kept steady timing, waiting for Johnny's body to respond and resume breathing without assistance.

Captain Stanley proceeded to attach the leads from the cardiac monitor to Johnny's chest, he flicked on the monitor relieved to see that his heart was still beating in a slow sinus rhythm.

"C'mon..." Roy began pleading with his partner. "Breathe."

A sudden cough startled both Roy and Captain Stanley. The coughing fit wracked Johnny's body as the oxygen took its effect. Roy pulled the mask away to keep his airway unobstructed while Captain Stanley held down Johnny's shoulder until the fit passed.

"Johnny, can you hear me?" Roy put his hand to Johnny's face.

No response. Roy looked at the monitor. Johnny's heart was beating a little faster, he was still alive and now breathing on his own.

Taking the stethoscope from the drug box Roy listened to Johnny's chest. His heartbeat was strong but there was also the distinct sound of congestion building in both lungs. Roy let the stethoscope causally dangle around his neck as he began accessing the rest of Johnny's condition.

Captain Stanley looked down at Johnny's damaged equipment. The mask would need to its visor replaced while his turnout was completely destroyed and beyond repair. The oxygen tank, however was a different story.

"Roy, look at this." Roy focused his gaze on the oxygen in his Captain's hands. The needle of the gauge was on red. "No wonder he stopped breathing, he ran out of oxygen!"

Johnny coughed a few more times simultaneously expelling the smoke from his lungs and taking in fresh breaths. He started to take slower, deeper breaths.

Roy took the oxygen and placed the mask over Johnny's face in an attempt to ease his breathing. He then picked up the bio-phone and contacted Rampart.

"Rampart this is Squad 51, how do you read?"

He paused awaiting the response, there was a delay which was not surprising. Dr. Brackett clicked on the intercom to respond. "_Squad 51, this is Rampart."_

"Rampart we have a victim of smoke inhalation with mild congestion in both lungs, he also sustained a large laceration extending from the length of his lower sternum to his lowest right rib. He is unconscious. The vitals are..."

Roy checked Johnny's pulse while Captain Stanley used the B.P. cuff to monitor his blood pressure, the proceeded to put sterile dressing over the bleeding injury on Johnny's chest.

"Pulse 66, respirations 16..."

He then took the penlight from uniform shirt pocket and checked Johnny's eyes, he flicked the light up and down twice in each eye.

"Pupils are both round, equal and reactive."

Captain Stanley looked up at Roy. "B.P. 100/80"

"And B.P. 100/80. Currently have the patient on O2 and note that the victim in paramedic John Gage."

Upon hearing Johnny's name Dr. Brackett flinched. The last thing he wanted to do today was treat a friend as a patient. He quickly assessed the vital information that Roy had delivered before advising the proper course of action.

"_51 start an I.V., D5w-TKO. Keep the wound covered and bring him in_."

"10-4 Rampart."

As Roy pulled the proper I.V. from the box, Captain Stanley checked in with Roy. "Do you need an extra set of hands?"

"No, I'm okay Cap. I can handle this."

"Right. I want you BOTH cleared by Rampart before I see you at the station, alright?"

Roy had just established the I.V. in Johnny's left arm. "Yeah, alright." He adjusted the drip.

The siren of the approaching ambulance was a relief. Soon both paramedics would be away from the scene and in the relative safety of the hospital.

Captain Stanley once again clicked on his HT. "Dispatch Station 51, requesting additional assistance to our location."

_'Station 51.'_

The ambulance slowly appeared into the smoky mess of the scene and parked itself near the squad.

"Don't worry about the squad Roy, I'll have it taken care of."

"Thanks Cap."

The ambulance attendants opened the rear doors and lowered the gurney to the ground before rolling it over to the downed paramedic. With the I.V. bag in one hand and the oxygen in the other, Roy watched at the attendants carefully but strongly lifted Johnny from the ground and onto the gurney. Roy tucked the I.V. bag beneath Johnny's shoulder and placed the oxygen between his legs.

Roy followed as the attendants wheeled the gurney back into the ambulance. Roy climbed in the back and sat on the bench to monitor his partner. The attendants both climbed in the front cab, then Roy banged his hand twice against the siding. "Let's go."

The sirens blared as the ambulance pulled away from the scene.

"Johnny, can you hear me?"

Johnny didn't open his eyes once during the ride into Rampart.

"Johnny? Wake up partner."

He never spoke but he did manage to move hand slightly, indicating that he was aware of Roy's presence.

"Just hang in there, we're almost to Rampart."

Another coughing fit disrupted the stillness. Roy carefully rolled his partner to his side and removed the mask from his face until the fit subsided. Returning the stethoscope to his ears he pressed the bell of against Johnny's back. The congestion was getting worse. He laid Johnny flat on his back once more and increased the flow of oxygen.

The ride to Rampart usually took 10 minutes, 20 minutes max! But today it seemed like this ride was going to last forever.

_-Back at Rampart-_

Dr. Brackett was waiting in the bay station for any additional information on Johnny's condition. Dixie had finally gotten ahold of a family member to take the wife of the late firefighter home. She was doing her best to hold back the tears of frustration and fatigue but Dr. Brackett knew her all too well.

"How are you holding up, Dix?"

"About as well as I could hope."

Dr. Brackett looked down at the nervously. Dixie had acquired a sixth sense when it came to people holding back details or keeping secrets.

"What is it Kel?"

He sighed. "We got another victim of smoke inhalation coming in."

"Someone we know?" Her question was rhetorical, Dr. Brackett never lost his cool when the patient was a stranger.

"Yeah. John Gage."

"Oh, no." She shut her eyes.

"His vitals are strong. He'll be fine." His reassurance wasn't very strong.

"I know." Her voice failed to reflect her optimistic response. "I'll have treatment room 1 set up."

As she walked into the room and prepared for their newest patient, Dr. Brackett heard the engine of the ambulance as it pulled into the parking lot and backed up the entrance. He patiently waited by the doors as the attendants lowered the gurney carrying Johnny to the ground. He also noticed that Roy seemed very pale.

The attendants wheeled Johnny inside with Roy following close behind. Dr. Brackett stopped them in the hallway, he picked up Johnny's wrist to count his pulse.

"Take him into room 1. What happened Roy?"

"He got caught in a ceiling collapse."

"How long?"

"He was down for no more than five minutes before Cap' carried him out."

"And he never regained consciousness on the ride in?"

"No."

Dr. Brackett sighed. "Alright. I want you checked out too, you're looking pale."

"Yeah, okay."

Both men walked into the exam room where Johnny was laying. He still wasn't moving. Dixie was already taking his blood pressure.

"B.P. is 110/80, pulse is 62, respirations 16, pupillary response is normal."

"Thanks Dix." Dr. Brackett took his stethoscope from his coat pocket and listened to Johnny's chest, careful not touch the bandaged laceration.

His heart was beating strong and normal, but his lungs sounded awful.

"Dix, adjust oxygen flow. I also want a chest x-ray and full skull series."

"Right." Dixie did as she was instructed then left the room to find the x-ray tech.

"Roy? Was Johnny even wearing a mask?"

"Of course he was." Roy was obviously insulted by the question, he was also looking a shade paler. "When the ceiling came down it fracture the visor on his mask, and the supply of oxygen tank had been depleted."

"That explains it."

"His congestion?"

"Yeah." Dr. Brackett gently put his hand on Johnny's abdomen to check respirations. He then slowly peeled back the bandage covering the wound. "I take it the smoke was especially thick then, too."

"Yeah." Roy's voice got quieter. "It was almost impossible to see anything."

"Give me a hand here, will ya' Roy?" Dr. Brackett motioned for the tray with the antiseptic and fresh gauze tucked into the corner.

He calmly brought the tray to Dr. Brackett and watched as the good doctor sterilized the wound. "He's lucky, he won't need any stitches or sutures, but he'll be in a great deal of pain for about a week."

Dixie pushed the door open, Dr. Brackett was expecting to see the x-ray tech but instead he saw a police officer.

"Doc. I'm Detective Nashton. Is this the paramedic who rescued the trapped man at the dock fire?"

Roy answered for Brackett. "Yeah, is the man okay?"

"Maybe you should come with me." He held the door open.

A knot formed in Roy's gut. He instinctively knew something terrible was wrong.

_**...to be continued...**_


	10. Awake & Alive

Detective Nashton walked into the hallway with Roy following. Nashton stopped and put his hands on his hips, he looked at Roy with hesitation in his eyes.

"You said your partner helped the victim at the scene of the fire, correct?"

"Yes." Roy couldn't understand what the detective wanted.

"And your partner had been injured during the rescue?"

"Yes. What's going on?"

Detective Nashton sighed. "Well, as it turns out the man your partner rescued is a repeat pyromaniac."

Roy swallowed nervously a he put the pieces together. "And he's the arsonist, isn't he?"

"Yeah. It looks like it."

Roy turned away in frustration, he leaned against the wall and pounded his fist against it. "Johnny was almost killed saving the lunatic who started the blaze to begin with." He looked back at Nashton. "How do you know it's him, for sure?"

"Well, when asked why he was at the scene he claimed that he was there to check the wiring."

"And?"

"The building had NO wiring installed, whatsoever."

"Okay. He lied about being there, but how do you know he's the arsonist?" Roy didn't doubt Nashton but he just wanted to be sure.

"After a few more questions he became really agitated and went on a rant about how putting up new buildings is yet another way mankind is killing the planet and its natural beauty."

Roy couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So he burned down the buildings to keep them from damaging the Earth?"

Nashton just shrugged. "In his mind the act of burning down man made structures is a way to let nature regain power through the 'Phoenix' rising from the ashes legend."

Dixie had overheard the conversation and joined the two men. "You caught the arsonist?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then maybe Mrs. Darren can find some peace after all."

Roy's eyes widened. "'Darren'? Wasn't he brought in..."

Dixie nodded. "Yeah. He didn't make it."

Roy shut his eyes. "How long ago?"

"Less than an hour. I've spent as much free time as I had trying to console his wife."

Nashton felt a twinge of guilt. "Where is she? I'd like to talk to her, if that's okay."

Dixie pointed at the doctor's lounge. "She's in there. Be gentle."

"Yes ma'am." Nashton disappeared into the lounge leaving Roy and Dixie alone in the hallway.

The x-ray tech finally arrived, Dixie walked over and held the door to the exam room open. As he entered the room Dr. Brackett exited. He saw Roy standing alone and immediately asked him the obvious question.

"What did the detective want?"

Roy was lost in thought, he didn't hear Brackett speak.

"Roy?" Dr. Brackett put his hand on Roy's shoulder and noticed how unnaturally warm Roy felt.

At his touch Roy jumped a little. "What? What did you want?"

"I asked what the detective wanted with you." Dr. Brackett couldn't help but notice how pale Roy's complexion had become as well, he also noted the sheen of sweat building on Roy's skin.

"Oh. He just wanted to tell me that the victim Johnny's saved was the arsonist."

"You're kidding."

Dixie chimed in on the bleak conversation. "No, and now Detective Nashton is informing Darren's widow of the news."

Dr. Brackett sighed. "I doubt that will be enough to comfort her." He didn't take his eyes from Roy. "How about you? Are you okay?"

Before Roy could respond his legs buckled and he passed out. He fell backward but Dr. Brackett was able to catch him before Roy's skull met the hard floor. "Dix, get a gurney, will ya'?"

Dr. Brackett lifted Roy's hand and checked his pulse. "Roy? Can you hear me?" He then put his hand to Roy's forehead.

Dixie returned with a gurney and two orderlies. "Dix, he's burning up."

The orderlies and Dr. Brackett carefully lifted Roy from the ground and onto the gurney. Dixie opened the door to Exam Room 2. Roy remained blissfully unaware of anything that was happening around him.

Inside the room Roy was placed onto the examination table. Dr. Brackett took his penlight and checked Roy's eyes. "Dix, what's his temperature?"

Dixie grabbed a thermometer and placed it between Roy's teeth. While waiting for the thermometer to measure Roy's temperature, Dixie proceeded to assist in checking Roy's other vitals. She placed the B.P. cuff on his arm.

"Well his pupils are normal." Dr. Brackett checked Roy's pulse again, then put his hand on Roy's abdomen. "Pulse is a little fast, respirations normal."

Dixie looked at Dr. Brackett. "Blood pressure 110/80."

Roy started to rouse, as he lifted his head to look around Dixie put her hands on his shoulders to keep him from getting up.

"How are you feeling Roy?" Dr. Brackett resumed the examination, glad to see Roy awake.

Seeing as Roy was able to speak Dixie pulled the thermometer from his mouth. "Fine. I guess. What happened?"

Dr. Brackett stood up straight. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Standing in the hallway with you and Dix." He swallowed, trying rid the dryness in his throat.

"And then you passed out."

"Should I be worried?"

"No. You most likely passed out from exhaustion."

Dixie checked the thermometer. "Kel, his temperature is 102.8."

Dr. Brackett just shook his head. "How long have you been running a fever?"

Roy thought back to the events of the day. "For at least three hours, I think."

"Three hours?" Dr. Brackett was genuinely surprised by the answer. "Why are you working with such a high fever?"

"Because there's no one left to fill in for me."

Dixie and Dr. Brackett exchanged the same looks of disbelief. "You mean there was no one left to take over your shift?"

"No one. Johnny and I were the only squad unaffected by the flu. At least, we _were_."

Dixie smiled. "And then you brought in Sarah."

Roy thought back to the young girl he saved. "Sarah? The girl from the fire... How is she?"

"She's fine. She said that she remembered someone picking her up off the floor and putting an air mask on her face."

Roy closed his eyes tight. "And then I put the mask back on and contracted her flu."

"Uh-huh." Dixie responded in a playful tone.

Dr. Brackett just smiled. "Well, I think regardless of how many people are left to take over your shift, both you and Johnny are going to be taking the rest of the day off."

Roy glanced at Dixie who just smiled and tagged onto Brackett's advice. "And it gets better."

"How?" Roy's voice was becoming hoarse, his throat now drier than it had been before.

"You both get a night's stay right here."

Roy sighed. It's not like he had anyone at home that could look after him anyway. "Alright, I'll stay."

Dr. Brackett looked over at Dixie. "Dix, go ahead and start an I.V., I don't want him getting dehydrated." He pushed open the adjoining door leading to exam room 1. "I'm going to check on Johnny."

"Hey Dix?" Roy sounded so weak and pathetic. "Could you call the station and let Cap know what's going on?"

"Sure." She finished with the I.V. and taped it down on Roy's arm. "Now rest, you've earned it."

* * *

The next morning Roy was awakened by Johnny tossing a pillow at him, it landing on his face. Dixie pulled some strings so they could share the same hospital room. At this moment Roy couldn't decide if what was a favor or nuisance.

"Hey, wake up!"

Roy pulled the pillow from his face. "What?"

There was another news report on the television. '_The arsonist that has been terrorizing the city over the past 24 hours has been captures. All of the fires have been contained and only two firefighters were injured. Unfortunately one of the firefighters did not make it. There will be a ceremony held in his honor this Friday in front of the courthouse_.'

Johnny sighed and looked over at Roy. "Well, you were right." He clicked off the television set.

"About what?" Roy closed his tired eyes again.

"They caught him."

"Yeah."

"Well, don't get too excited!" Johnny teased.

Roy looked over at his partner. "You know, I think I liked you alot more when you were asleep."

"Hey, Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have my pillow back?"

"Nope."

_**-The End**_

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank everyone who read this story, reviewed and kept urging me to finish! It's far more fulfilling to write when I know so many people were interested and wanted to read more! Not the most exciting chapter of the story but hopefully it was a satisfying conclusion.**

**And as for the cliffhangers? Mwa, ha ha... I couldn't help but keep adding them, my inner-Loki had been piqued. I still can't decided if using cliffhangers at the end of each chapter was a clever way to keep you reading or manipulating you into reading. I'm good with either answer!**


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